Conjured Lives
by Aurorajaye
Summary: Connor meets a girl named Dawn and learns they have more in common than he could have imagined. M for later chapters. A bit of profanity. LEMONS!
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my first fanfic! I write for a living, but not fiction, so this is new for me. I hope you enjoy. I always thought Connor and Dawn would be an awesome couple, as both were raised by demon fighters, and both of their childhoods were conjured by monks. Also, both have shiny, shiny hair. **

**Note: I own nothing in the Jossverse, but feel privileged to play there. Thanks!**

Connor couldn't believe he was hiding in a bathroom—not from vampires, demon, evil law firms or some combination thereof. No, he was hiding from the party: the heat, the noise, the unrelenting cheerfulness, and the smell of a hundred lusty dancing college students. Normal, human Connor had agreed to come to the party. Now, Connor was brooding in the bathroom. Normal Connor hadn't though about how the party might effect Stephen-Connor's extreme senses or battle training. Stephen-Connor didn't like being surrounded by people. Stephen-Connor always chose a seat where he could see all exits and sit with his back to the wall.

He knew it was crazy to think of himself as two separate people. If he ever told a psychiatrist, they'd diagnose him with schizophrenia. But it was the best way he'd figured out to deal with the dual memories. In the first set of memories, Connor had grown up in a happy, loving family in sunny California. In the second set, he started off as Stephen, fighting for his life in a hell dimension. Then he and his first father, Holtz, had come to this one. At first, he thought his second father, Angel, was evil and had killed Holtz. In time, Stephen discovered that wasn't true and became Connor. He'd come to love Angel, but it wasn't enough. Not after what happened to Cordelia. Not after they took Jasmine away. But one day, a stupid container was smashed, and Normal Connor knew he was Stephen-Connor, too.

He was trying to learn to be both at once, but it was hard. Sometimes, he could be Normal Connor for days, even weeks, before he thought about his "real" self, and the nightmare world he'd lived in. But then he'd see an animal of prey dart by in the park and find himself longing to spear the rabbit, or someone would throw a punch at a party, and his fists would ache to pummel flesh until blood spurted. Hence, he was hiding in a bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water until he felt normal. When he turned off the tap, he could hear only one small person breathing in the next room. _Yep,_ he thought, _hearing a person breathing in the next room isn't at all weird._ He decided to open the door, as he'd have to sooner or later. As he did, a phone rang in the other room. A young woman answered in a girlish voice.

"Hey, Xan. I'm having a party—kind of…Mmm-hmm. Yeah, I know: 'beer bad.'" She giggled, and Connor's chest fluttered in a way neither of the Connors had experienced before. He didn't like it. "Sure, put her on," the girl continued. Connor had decided to sneak out while she was engrossed in conversation. The girl was flopped down on the bed, one arm draped over her eyes. Her long, brown hair was very shiny. "Look, Buffy, just because you and Cordelia were dumb enough to nearly get eaten by some frat house snake demon doesn't mean…"

Connor had managed to stalk across the room and silently ease open the door when her words halted him: _Buffy, Cordelia, demon. _His sudden jolt somehow drew the woman's attention, and she jerked upright, squinting at the light as her arm fell from her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

"Crap! What? Nothing. Erm, look, sis, I gotta go. Hug everybody for me…Yeah, 'It's about the power.' I know, I know!" She snapped her phone closed. "Hi. Um, I don't know what you thought you heard, but—my sister's all overprotective, so she used to make up these stories—kinda like fairytales, I guess—about college boys being evil. Demons? Ha! So not real, and…"

He laughed at her stammering babble, and she blushed. She was utterly unprepared for what the beautiful, pouty-lipped young man said next, closing the door through which he had planned to escape.

"No, of course not. And you're not Dawn Summers, and there's no such thing as vampires, either, or watchers, or slayers."

For a moment, fear pulsed through her. Well, technically, it was adrenaline _caused_ by fear, but…ugh, now even her thoughts were babbling. But in the next moment, she sensed that he was neither a Big Bad, nor a minion. She decided to lower her defenses a bit. _Like ten percent_.

"Exactly," she replied, nodding with false bravado. She didn't like how high and nasal her voice sounded, all pinched by the fear. "And _you_ aren't…"

"Connor. I didn't grow up in a hell dimension, and my father isn't a vampire with a soul."

"ANGEL?" Dawn guessed, thinking he reminded her more of Angel than Spike. Connor nodded. Dawn began ranting faster and faster: "How is that even possible? I thought vamps couldn't…well, _you know_, and I better call Buffy before she accidentally ends up in the family way! She always seems to be getting it on with some vamp or other, which is weird, considering her line of work. Wait, actually? It would be just as weird if she wasn't a slayer, since most people don't even know about vamps, and would probably die from sex with one, 'cause Vamps are so strong, and most vamps aren't soul-having, so they'd probably get drained when the vamp wanted a post-coital snack. I wonder if the pill or a condom is sufficient to stop vamp sperm and…"

She had reopened her cell phone and started dialing in the midst of her breathless rant, but stopped when he put his hand on hers. Okay, maybe she had let her guard drop more than ten percent. That wasn't a good idea. She looked into his big, sad eyes. Her throat was suddenly dry.

"Can you give me proof that you're Angel's son? That you're not an evil bad guy?"

"I can try." Connor didn't know where to start, so he decided to work chronologically. "Angel's my dad. My mom's name was Darla. A guy named Wesley Windham-Price kidnapped me as a baby and gave me to a guy named Holtz." Dawn's eyes had widened, first at hearing that Darla was his mother, and again when hearing of Wesley's desperate act. "Holtz took me to another dimension--Quartoth. I came back a year later, but about more time had passed here—like 17 or 18 years.

"Okay, proof…Angel broods a lot. I used to, too, I guess. He only drinks pig's blood and has a weird tattoo of a bird on his shoulder. Cordelia…" his voice broke, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Cordelia went to school with Buffy in Sunnydale. She loved shoes." Connor looked like he might cry, then shook off the emotion. "And nobody remembers me because of some weird spell that gave me a fake life and fake memories…like the old me never existed. That's why you don't know I exist. You knew before. I even met Faith and Willow. I guess I don't have any real proof. I mean, I can prove I'm not normal, but I can't prove that I'm not evil."


	3. Chapter 3

Frankly, he wasn't sure he _wasn't_ evil. Images flashed in his mind of a store, explosives, and Cordy's body on the ground just before Angel's knife glinted, cold against Connor's throat. He was shocked to see that Dawn had taken his hand. She had surprised him with a touch, and his body had not reacted with violence. Strange.

"I've spent plenty of time around evil, and you're not it. But let me make a phone call, just in case." She opened her phone and hit 9 on her speed dial.

"Hi, Angel…probably nothing. Look, who's Connor? Because he's here. Uh-huh. 'Kay. What does he look like? Mmm-hmm, that sounds right. Okay, Angel, this guy says he's Connor, so ask a question only the real Connor would know the answer to." She passed off the phone.

"Um, hi," Connor mumbled. "Total coincidence. Seriously. Yeah, I'm fine. I know. I'm sorry, but I'm still sorting things out, and you've had your hands full. Plus you won't let me help…No I'm not arguing it again. Just ask me the question so Dawn knows I'm not an impostor." He listened for a moment, then softly replied, "In an alley in the rain. You and Fred. Darla had to stake herself. Jeez, Dad, you couldn't just ask me your favorite song? Mandy! See how much easier that was? Why do you always have to be so dramatic?" He laughed. For a moment, he'd been both Connors at once: Stephen-Connor remembering the sad story, thinking of Angel as "Dad" and Normal Connor who said the endearment so easily, teased so easily. "I'm giving the phone back to Dawn."

"You're sure? Okay. Um…" she looked Connor up and down. "Good, I guess. Happy. Okay, I will. 'Bye, Angel."

"You told him I'm happy?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Was I wrong?"

"I don't know, but he worries about me. He gave up a lot for me to have this _normal_ life. I don't want him to think it was for nothing."

"Why, do you think it was?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I wish I could be the way I was before I remembered about Angel and Quartoth. Then I realize that the person I was before never actually existed and was invented by monks."

"Me, too," she said, a surprised and eager look on her face.

"That's not funny."

She led him to the bed and they sat on the edge, awkwardly— close, but not touching.

"Seriously! I used to be a ball of light. I was the key to another dimension. These monks decided to hide me from the Big Bad by making me the vampire slayer's little sister. I remember my whole life as her sister, even though I'm technically only…" she had to think about it. "Five, maybe six, years old? I'm pretty sure that's when they made me human or whatever. When I found out, I had a hard time sorting out whether I was…real." She looked to see whether he would believe her. Connor had heard stranger things. Hell, he'd lived stranger things.

"You're six? Well, I guess that would make me…Hmm, well I was born four or five years ago. I was given to my new family…three years ago, probably? Would that make me three or five?"

"Hmm…I'd go with five," she replied, "Since you were actually born then. But you've actually lived like twenty years, even if they weren't here."

"According to my birth certificate, I'm 21."

"Um…so you told Angel that meeting me was a coincidence?"

"It was. Your roommate's in my chem lab, and she invited me. The party was just too much, so I had to be alone for a while. That's why I was in your bathroom. "

She giggled. "You are like Angel. Although I guess I'm not one to talk, since I wigged and threw everyone out of my room. Our party will have to rage on without me."

"Why did you throw them out?"

"I don't know. I used to think this was all I wanted: just to dance and drink and be normal. Then, after everything went to hell in Sunnydale with The First and the Ubervamps?" She looked over at him to see if he knew what she was talking about. He nodded. "Well, I realized that I was never going to have the averagey teenage stuff, but I had something more. I had our friends and the slayerettes, and we were a family. I saw the best and worst of this world—the danger and the magic. After all that, college and keggers don't hold much appeal."

"Then why are you here?"

"Buffy." Dawn sighed. "She wants me to have some normalcy."

She remembered Buffy's speech on the matter: _"Dawn, even I had a more normal childhood than you did. At least I got to go on dates, go to prom, graduate and go to college! You had to get a GED because I turned Sunnydale into a sinkhole, then dragged you away so I could train mini-slayers. Dawnie, you'll love college. You love to learn!"_ Buffy had only managed to convince Dawn with the help of Willow and Giles, who informed her of how invaluable she could be to the group with higher education.

Officially, she was undeclared, but in Dawn's head, her major was Watchering, and she took courses on ancient languages, physics, computer science, biology, horticulture and folklore—anything that might help the Scoobies and Buffy's army of slayers.


	4. Chapter 4

"I hate that word: 'Normal.' But I use it all the time. _What would Normal Connor do?"_

"Exactly. Trying to act ordinary is exhausting—explaining away the stake in my purse, the cross necklaces, the holy water? The last two have my roommate convinced I'm Catholic, but like embarrassed or something, since I never talk about it or go to mass. She's all, 'Dawn, your faith is nothing to be ashamed of.' I want to scream at her, 'I'm not fucking Catholic. The only priest I ever met gutted girls left and right and poked out Xander's eye!' I mean, I know most Catholics are really nice—not evil and slaughtery at all—but I'm just—not Catholic."

She realized she was babbling again, and found herself staring at the young man beside her. His eyes were wide and blue, his lips full. Dawn didn't usually go for pretty guys, but there was something about Connor—a toughness under his delicate features. Also, their babies would have shiny, shiny hair.

_Woah. Where did THAT come from? You just met this guy and you're picturing babies? They'd have huge blue eyes, too! Ugh, Dawn Summers, you do not want a baby. Now stop staring at his lips. Stop. It." _

Before Connor knew what he was doing, he'd slid one hand into Dawn's satin hair, and his face was lowering to hers. Their lips met. It was nothing special at first, but the kiss deepened. Connor slid his other hand into her hair, too. His thumbs stroked the soft, pale skin of her cheeks. Their tongues stroked and swirled.

A part of him was nagging: _This is Buffy's sister. You already slept with Angel's other great love! Seriously, should you really bang another woman from Angel's life? _He pulled away, apologizing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not," Dawn whispered, "Do you have a girlfriend or something?"

"No," he replied. "It's just that—I hurt people. And I've killed people."

Dawn was shocked by Connor's words, but Angel had said Connor was a good man, and Dawn believed him. Hell, her whole family was constantly killing demons, and half of her family had killed people, too. Even a killer could be redeemed. She believed that. Dawn believed that people were always more than the worst thing they had ever done. Then, a strange thought occurred to her.

"Me, too, kind of. When my blood opened the portal to a hell dimension, I let Buffy die when it was supposed to be me. We've all done things we aren't proud of. But you have to move on from the past. I wasn't always real, but I am now, and I get to decide who I'm going to be. And who I'm going to be is a girl kissing you."

She surprised him by pushing him back on the bed and straddling his waist. She moved quickly for a human. Dawn registered the surprise on his face.

"I know, right? Buffy and Giles decided to put me through slayer training. I'm not a slayer or anything, but I get attacked so much that they wanted me to be as prepared as possible." He didn't like hearing that she got attacked often. It made him want to stay by her side. It made him want to wield weapons. In his head, he heard bones crack, and again saw his knuckles wet with dazzling blood.

"I should probably tell you, I'm not exactly human," he said.

"Okay. Then what are you?"

"I'm fast and strong. I have super hearing and smelling. Some spells against demons affect me. Others don't. I don't know what I am."

"Who cares? If you ask some people, I'm a key. Actually "The Key." Whatever. We're just Connor and Dawn." She leaned down to kiss him again.

"I slept with Cordelia."


	5. Chapter 5

_Damn it! _Normal Connor was getting annoyed with himself.

Just by touching and kissing him, this girl was dragging more words out of Stephen-Connor than the taciturn hunter had spoken during his entire life of Quartoth. Why did he feel the need to confess everything to Dawn?

_Because she IS "The Key." My Key._

Normal Connor didn't like the sound of that. _And what if she is, genius? What if you have sex with her, she bleeds, and you end up back in Quartoth?_

It actually occurred to him that he might not care as long as Dawn came with. Then he shook off that thought, as he would never want to put Dawn through the torture of his homeland.

She had crawled off his lap and was sitting beside his reclined body. He sat up and turned to face her.

"Cordelia? _Our_ Cordelia?" she squeaked. He nodded with a look of shame. "Huh. Well, if I swung that way she wouldn't have been my choice. I mean, she was a total smokin' hottie, but she was such a bitch. No offense. I heard she got a lot nicer after she moved to L.A."

"She did."

"Then what's the matter? Why do you look so guilty?"

"Well, for one thing, she used to change my diapers. I've seen these pictures where…it looks like she's my mom." Connor looked a bit ill as he said it. "And Angel was in love with her."

"Oh. Huh. Okay, I don't blame you for feeling grossed out…although…okay, when Cordelia took care of you, you were an infant. Then, when you saw her again, you were like 18 and she was 21? So it's normal that you didn't see her as your mom." Her words put him more at ease. "As for Angel, he's always pining for someone. He can never be truly happy. That's his curse.

"If the way you were living is anything like the way I was living, most of the time it seemed like the people in my house were the only people in the world. So who else could we fall in love with? Now are you done confessing?" _Seriously, _she thought, _can't we just make out? _ When he kissed her, Dawn did feel like a ball of light—a ball of light and herself, all at once. She'd never felt that way before.

"Um, one more. It's…it's a big one." He looked at her beautiful, impatient face, and touched her skin in case he never got the chance again. "When Cordy and I had sex, she got pregnant and gave birth to a god named Jasmine who tried to take over the world. She didn't survive."

He'd spit out the sentence quickly. All of this had happened in the other reality: the one only Connor and Angel remembered. Wesley had known, but he was dead now, too. Connor hadn't told Dawn to share his burden. He'd told her because he didn't want to knock her up with evil spawn. She had to know he wasn't worth the risk.

"Cordelia? Oh, I'm so sorry." The loss had clearly been hard on Connor. Then Dawn's mind shifted to the other half of the revelation—the part about getting preggers with something like Glory. "Wow…that's a lot to…wow. Well…okay, we just met. If we ever get to the actual baby-making stage, I'm sure I know some witches who can suss out whether we're in the clear. For now, I'm on the pill. Do you have condoms?" His jaw dropped at her nonchalance, but he did have some in his wallet, so he nodded. "Good, me too. We won't need them tonight, though. I—um—I take things slowly in relationships, okay? Not molasses slow, like _glacier_ slow." _Damn it, I said the "r" word! He'll probably run screaming. Okay, Dawnie, just don't mention how pretty your babies would be—assuming they aren't evil. _

What Dawn didn't realize was that Connor had noticed the "r" word, and he liked it. He had managed to find probably the only woman on earth who understood him and his world, the only one who wouldn't run from him and his stupid, angsty confessions. He wanted to keep her around for as long as possible. He felt a rush of passion, but didn't want to hurt her, physically or emotionally. He turned and lay down with his head on the pillow. It smelled like Dawn—the floral scent of her shampoo and the richer scent of her skin. He gently pulled her down to lie down facing him, then wrapped his arms around her.

Connor was stronger than he looked. He looked slight, but his arms were steely, like Spike's arms, or Buffy's, though Dawn didn't really want to think of either person right now.

Connor was enjoying just holding her, breathing in her scent and listening to her heartbeat. She put her ear to his warm chest. Connor had a heartbeat, too.


	6. Chapter 6

Connor felt more relaxed than he had been since before the box broke and real life had come rushing back. Actually, he was more relaxed than he'd ever felt in his _real_ life in Stephen-Connor's world, where you were vigilant, always, or you died. Now, all of him was at ease except his penis, which was straining against his jeans. He didn't give a fuck.

Dawn nuzzled his neck, drawing even closer. She raised her top leg and wrapped it around his hip, pulling closer still. She could feel him flinch slightly, and whispered, "It's okay," as she pushed him from his side to his back. She was straddling him again, this time with her body plastered to his, kissing her way up his neck to his ear. She rotated her hips, loving the feeling of his hardness rubbing the softness between her thighs.

She took his earlobe between her lips and lapped it a bit before taking it between her teeth and scraping gently. Instantly, Dawn was flat on her back, legs wrapped around Connor's waist as he kissed her senseless and ground their hips together, creating maddening friction. He growled, low and menacing, and she knew that this was no longer the Connor the monks had made. His hands were grabbing her so hard. He wasn't trying to hurt her; this was no fetish. Dawn knew he was just trying to hold onto her.

Sometimes, when Buffy was terrified, she hugged Dawn so tight that she left bruises. It annoyed Dawn, and she would retaliate by kicking Buffy in the shins—a move that seemed to hurt, despite Buffy's super powers. Dawn was not annoyed by Connor's hold, and had no plans of kicking him in the shins. All she cared about was his lips and tongue, his body against hers, making her burn and glow. She gave a tiny, involuntary yelp, and the other Connor was back.

"Oh, God, I hurt you. I'm sorry. Fuck." He tried to pull away, but she wrapped her legs tighter. The move rubbed the seam of her jeans against her clit and she gasped.

"You're not going anywhere. Please?"

"I'm too strong."

"So what, you're never going to have sex? I guess you could get with a slayer. There are more every day." At that idea, her face fell and her hold loosened. She tried not to be jealous that she wasn't a slayer. Mostly she'd come to terms with it with Xander's help, but she still had moments when it was hard.

"What? No. I don't want a slayer, I want…" He couldn't believe what he was saying. He'd just met the damn girl. This was ridiculous, but he said it anyway: "You, Dawn." Her legs dropped in surprise.


	7. Chapter 7

Connor slowly pulled away and sat at the end of the bed. Dawn got up.

"I think I need some water," she said. "Do you need water?"

He nodded. She took two bottles from the mini-fridge. He could never get over how cold and clean the water was in this part of this world. He rarely drank anything else anymore, because each sip was like a miracle. Why would you dump in sugar and chemicals on purpose? Of course, food was another matter. God, he loved processed food. This was better. He was thinking about other things. The tightness in his jeans was no longer painful.

"Maybe you should just tie me up," he muttered under his breath. Dawn heard, though, and choked on a mouthful of water. Connor looked at her with alarm. "Are you alright? What can I do?"

"I'm fine," she croaked when her coughing subsided. She stood up and paced, gesturing emphatically. "It's just your bondage-fun suggestion kind of threw me, since we haven't even had our first date."

"What? No, not like that. I just meant—I got lost for a moment, and I hurt you, but you wanted to keep going. If you tied me up with strong enough bindings, you could kiss me all you wanted and we wouldn't have to worry."

"I'm not worried. See, the problem is, you're trying to be two people—one all safe and happy, the other dark and strong and wild. But you're both. The minute I got hurt, you stopped. Eventually, you'll know before it hurts."

He sighed and considered her words, then nodded. "Maybe we should date," he said.

"Damn straight, bucko."

For a moment they were normal kids, entering their numbers in each other's cell phones and setting up their first date. Then came the moment when a normal guy would have left. Well, some normal guys would have seduced Dawn after that first kiss (skipping the long conversation and rounds of confessions), fucked, showered and left. But this was the moment when Normal Connor would have left, smiling and promising to call her. Then he would have waited a few days to ring her up. Connor's hand was on the doorknob. Then he turned.

"I don't like leaving you. It feels wrong."

She giggled, thinking, _Man, I love him. He just says what he wants. He doesn't play it cool. He could be breaking hearts all over campus, and instead he's in my bedroom, looking all lost. _She didn't notice that the "L" word had crept into her thoughts.

"Then stay!"

They decided to go to sleep, despite the thumping music, laughter and voices coming from the living room. Each took a turn in the bathroom. Dawn came out in soft pink shorts and a white tank top, her face scrubbed clean. Connor came out in his boxers. Dawn pulled back the sheets and patted the mattress beside her. He climbed into bed with her, and they began to spoon.

Since the box broke, Connor had dreamed of toads falling from the sky, birds dashed bloody against the windows, night that stretched forever, a virgin begging for mercy and receiving Cordy's blade, and Jasmine's face—rotting muscles, maggots and bone—beaming love until her last breath.

With Dawn in his arms, his sleep was peaceful. He dreamt of falling stars.


	8. Chapter 8

Dawn dreamt of fire, stoking hotter and hotter until she thought she would explode from happiness. She woke up on the verge of climax, wanting Connor desperately. They had turned to face each other in their sleep, and she was writhing against him. She stilled, not wanting to wake him. Embarrassed, she slid one hand into her shorts to gently stroke in the hopes of some relief.

It was not her movements that woke Connor. It was the shift in her breathing and her scent. His sensitive nose drew in the smell of Dawn's arousal. It made him feel drunk. Without thinking, he drew her hand away from her wetness. She whimpered in protest, then looked mortified, until he drew her fingers into his mouth. Then Connor was kissing his way down her body.

He gently peeled her tank top over her head, tousling her hair and revealing her breasts. They felt perfect in his hands, round and somehow both soft and firm. He lowered his head to one orb, while still holding and tweaking the other. His right hand was exploring her body, with maddeningly light caresses. He moved his mouth to the other breast, pulling at the peak. Dawn grabbed his hair. "Harder!" He laughed and happily complied.

Her hands were roaming his body, too—his lithe, firm chest and arms, his ass. All the while, she couldn't stop swirling her hips against him. Sweat trickled down the back of her legs. All she could think about was how her body felt against his. She was burning, incandescent. _What if I get so hot that the sheets catch fire?_

Then Connor was kissing his way down her belly. He'd thought he was drunk on her scent before. Now he was high on it. He couldn't form a thought beyond her light and heat and skin. He knew he had to taste her. She called out when his mouth came down on her, tongue darting and lapping. His tongue circled her and thrust, making her hips pump, but then he focused on her clitoris.

When his tongue first flicked over the satiny nub, her hips bucked high off the mattress. He chuckled against her, and the vibration made Dawn squirm. Her hands were tangled in his hair as Connor began again. Dawn's toes curled as her entire body pulled taut. Then she let out a little scream, and water, clear and salty, gushed between her legs and she fell limp with a sexy laugh. Connor was shocked by this development, and now Dawn smelled like the ocean.

"What was that?" he asked, pulling her into his arms. For a moment, Dawn ducked her head shyly. Then, she looked him in the eyes with an expression of defiance.

"I ejaculated. It's normal. I looked it up on the Internet." Part of him wanted to laugh at that statement, but he knew from her face that would be a terrible mistake. "It's also called squirting or gushing. Some women can do it and some can't. I can. It's not pee or anything." He'd known that from the scent, though Connor suspected some young men might not get the difference. He hoped none had ever said something disparaging to her about it.

"It was amazing," he whispered.

"Really?" She looked warily hopeful. "Well, next time we should grab some towels first, because it does get messy." He laughed and kissed her. She didn't shrink away from his kiss, from the taste of herself on his lips. Dawn was not a virgin, but the sex she'd had before was nothing like this.


	9. Chapter 9

Though Dawn was a romantic at heart, she'd been terrified about losing her virginity after what had happened with Buffy's first time. The guy had turned into a raging psychotic killer! As such, Dawn had decided not to wait until she fell in love.

During her freshman year of college, Dawn had met a nice, cute guy named Mike. They had dated for months, and one night, she knew she wanted to be with him. They had sex, with lots of nice touching and kissing. Mike gave her a nice little orgasm, but somehow she managed to hold back so she wouldn't gush. After some cuddling, she'd snuck off to the bathroom and finally let herself come completely undone. She'd then washed up and gone to bed in her boyfriend's arms. They'd stayed together for a while, but it gradually became tougher to hide the more unusual aspects of her life (like vampires, demons and an army of slayers), so she'd broken up with him.

Sex with Mike had been nice, but not screaming-crazy like she knew sex was sometimes. Buffy and the Scoobies had always tried to be discrete, but it was hard to hide every scream, hickey and scratched back in such close quarters. Besides, as a girl Dawn had gone through an obnoxious phase during which she'd read Buffy's diary. She wasn't sure whether she should feel guilty, as the first few times she'd looked at it were just in memories created by monks.

_See, this is the one bad thing about having Connor as a boyfriend. Sure, now I get the screaming crazy sex, but it also makes me think about whether I 'm real, and whether I'm responsible for things I did before I was real. And we haven't even gone on a date yet, but in my head, I've already made him my boyfriend. _

Her possible-boyfriend was still hard against her hip, and Dawn decided to do something about it. She pulled away and fished a condom out of her dresser drawer. His eyes opened, curious. Dawn kissed her way down his chest, then she tugged at his waistband. Reflexively, Connor raised his hips, and she whisked the boxers down and off. He was stunned by how quickly it had happened. Now, she was kissing and licking his belly and thighs.

His entire body, all of his razor-sharp senses, were focused on one thing: Dawn's mouth on his body. She swirled her tongue and playfully suckled. She lapped a pearly drop from him, and sat up to open the foil packet. She rolled the condom down his length.

"Are you sure? I thought you said…"

"I'm sure. Besides, you've been here for nine hours. That's like three dates."

He laughed, but knew what she meant. Connor and Dawn may have just met, but they'd been together for a long time. She climbed over him, and reached down to make sure she was still wet enough. Again, he took her hand in his and lapped off her moisture. Then, Dawn lowered herself onto him, slowly taking every inch inside. It was a tight fit, and she cried out hoarsely, but soon her hips began to move. It was like dancing, and Dawn loved to dance.

At first, Connor tried to lie back, letting her set the pace, moving nothing but his hips. Dawn dragged one hand through her hair, while the other stroked down the length of her torso and back up the length of Connor's. She was so beautiful, writhing above him, and he could feel that she was close, so close to coming. She thrust against him, again and again, but couldn't get to that feeling just out of reach and whimpered in frustration.

"Connor, oh, Connor. Connor, _please," _she panted, not knowing what she was asking him for._ "_Baby, please?"

With that, he took her hips in hand, guiding her against him harder and faster, and he kissed her with every ounce of passion her felt for her. She was a star. She was the sun, burning them up. Dawn screamed, long and loud, and came all over him in a wet burst. She dissolved into giggles and fell forward on Connor's chest. Then she heard a pounding on the wall between her bedroom and her roommate's. Her roommate shouted, "Shut the fuck up! I'm trying to sleep!"

Dawn blushed to the roots of her hair, but she and Connor laughed again and fell asleep in each other's arms.

**And that's the end of my first fan-fic, unless people want more of this story. If you do, let me know!**

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